As much as I try to keep up with doing all the fun things for the holidays, I find myself failing more and more each year. It started last year when girl number three arrived. I had an excuse for not going anywhere and for not doing anything. I mean, hell! I had a baby, might as well have no limbs. It’s a good excuse to get out of doing shit too. This year has really been no different with girl number four. We barely colored Easter eggs, had to force ourselves to go see fireworks (told us that it would be too loud for the little ones) and we sailed nowhere on Columbus day, what? you didn’t either?
So far I am sucking ass when it comes to earning any awards for being the “World’s Best Mother”. So fast forward to one of my more favorite, just for fun holidays, “Halloween”. The temperature is perfect, the leaves are a beautiful mix of autumn tones. The season itself is the best in my opinion, sweater weather where I’m from. I look forward to apple and pumpkin picking, hopping on a wagon and going for a hayride while drinking hot chocolate or warm apple cider. Sounds delicious, doesn’t it? It did…until reality said, “you’re a dumb-ass”.
Things did not turn out like planned this year, mostly because somewhere between wiping ass three and ass four, I forgot what month it was. The fall decorations are still boxed up in my basement, where they will stay until next year; possibly the year after. It doesn’t help that my step daughter (girl one) is only here every other weekend. The weekend that we happened to have her, we also had two swim meets to go to and a birthday party in the middle of the day, leaving no time for pumpkin picking and other warm fuzzy shit. So we packed up the kids and made a trip to our local Wal-mart to get pumpkins, I know….don’t even go there! It’s hard to make that an event. It’s like “look kids! big boxes of pumpkins!” FAIL.
This is from our trip:
After picking our pumpkins from the lovely selection of left overs, we trekked back home. Of course by this time, the kids needed to eat (by law, we are required to feed them). I hate cooking, I hate dinner, I hate fucking cooking dinner. After our blissful meal, where no one screamed, cried or whined about what they were eating %$&%$%#@@@#$!!!!!!!! We got prepared to do a little pumpkin carving…..oh wait, time for bed for the babies. About an hour after telling them to go the fuck to sleep, I mean reading them stories and singing lullabies, we started carving. Girl one didn’t want to finish carving hers because she was tired, so the pumpkin was left on the table half done. Girl two took forever to finish hers, and stalled so she could stay up late.
My husband and I played the groping game during this time (feel free to read about that after, if you haven’t already). This was the highlight of the night for us.
Here we are having some fun with photos in the process:
Yours truly, check out my pumpkins!!
My husband, Batman. He will go along with anything.
I love that goofy bastard!
Just another way I failed as a mother. The tradition got lost somewhere, and I was too busy groping my husband to help the kids. Worst mother ever, but good mom from time to time. Two days later, the pumpkin girl one started to carve, rotted on the kitchen table, where it decided to stink up the house and leak moldy pumpkin juice.
But at least we had pumpkin seeds, which I realized I can’t stand. Every year I look forward to them, and every year I spit them out. It’s like chewing raw wood, they suck.
But everyone else loves them.
It is 6:30pm here now, the day before Halloween. Girl two has a costume that isn’t finished yet. I forgot we had girl four, so she’s gonna have to wear girl threes costume from last year, and to round out this splendid series of events; we ate a shit load of candy. We will most likely run out before trick-or-treating is done tomorrow night.
This was packed tight and filled to the brim.
Happy Fucking Halloween!
“Type hard! Like you mean it!”